I had broken my promise to be your Minister of Fun.
On bended knee, on chequered tiles: onlookers sent us two flutes of champagne for our bravery.
The risotto left me ill the next day, sweating out the emboldening spirit.
Grasping an armrest with the force to foreground ligaments, you joined me in the lullaby of turbulence.
And you tore the shirt from me.
And I sent a tear down into your eye.